I hold the eye of the night, the stars sigh this dream season, drink a seat, drunk writing misty rain in the south of the Yangtze River, the wind chasing fireworks and rain, full of poetry; Listening to the soft voice of flowers, with the waves of moonlight echoing in the soft heart, the peach blossom hidden in the dream flutters and falls to the ground, which is the most romantic in warmth; Look at the traceless flowing water, the fireworks left in the ancient road, dyed with sunset red all day, quietly becoming idle, stealing the leisure of static flowers, and being the most chic in coolness. Look at the three-point bonus of peach blossom, which is not in the leaves, but the quiet and gentle breeze of Qingshan holding Lin Hong's hand; Listening to the peach blossom whispering, bathing in the rain, clear water reflects the starry sky, as dazzling as the sunset glow; Count the time on the paper, write down mellow words, draw a picture of the river wind blowing away agarwood and killing the decay on the rings.
Quietly, carefully, smelling sandalwood, walking quietly and silently is a cool time, cutting out the bleak north wind and sticking a piece of paper on the warm spring day. At that time, the peach blossoms were slightly warm; Quietly, gently, stroking the time spent in the flower sea, the wind blew a faint fragrance, it was a slightly sweet season. At that time, the time was a little cold. If you ask about the lip prints of pear flower begonia, it is a fleeting plum blossom, and all the fallen flowers you ask are silently recalled in the soil and brewed into moonlight; If you ask sake, the moon is alone, it's a boat full of sadness and joy, and the water you ask is a sudden moment, which precipitates the floating persistence in time.
Willow smoke dyed green waves, filled with three-point moonlight. Pick a peach blossom with misty rain and red makeup, which is comfortable, leisurely and subtle; Smile for a while, splashing free poetry, turning ambiguity into lingering, listening to the rhetoric of time elegant, light, infatuated.
I can't get tired of watching a peach blossom get warmer. I want to fold one and put it in the library, which will cause a strong taste of spring and autumn. I can't be thirsty and indifferent to the wind; A cool time is endless. I wish to write down my life's joys and sorrows in the wind and blow away the quicksand in my hand. I can't grasp the time and have nothing. Let it go. The withered peach blossoms are still as fragrant as ever, and love and hate are like the wind blowing away without a trace; The forgotten time is still sweet, and the past is like a flower, clear and fragrant.
This night is sleepless, and the evening breeze is getting warmer. If you watch a peach blossom in full bloom, you will feel relieved. Love is a flower, which is green in spring, prosperous in summer and solstice, dim in early autumn and buried together in winter. It happens to rain, and the season is cool, so it doesn't matter if you read books. What I have done in my life is fate, what I have written in my life is providence, and what I have written with my heart is arrangement. They are the palm prints on my hand.
Love this peach blossom, getting warmer; Love this time, cool.